


Afterschool detention

by orphan_account



Series: (Wet) Dream Journal [3]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Blackmail, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, M/M, POV First Person, POV Male Character, Public Blow Jobs, Snowballing, Teacher-Student Relationship, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 05:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5992807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That’s why I hate him. I hate the fact that he makes me like being used. I hate that he makes me enjoy being dirtied. He made me like something that was morally wrong in all directions and that’s why I can never forgive him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afterschool detention

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I do not condone the acts depicted in this work. This smut is only a scenario for those who have a rape fantasy/rapeplay kink. If you're not into that, this is really not something you should read. So be careful, make sure your parents aren’t in the room, and protect the kids.

Everyone has run across a teacher in their lives that they can honestly say they hated, I’m sure. I’m not talking about the delinquent students who just hated their teachers for doing their job, but I’m talking about students like me; students who did what they were supposed to do and still got disrespected by teachers in the end. We’re the students who always go home wondering to ourselves "What did I do wrong?" Anyone will just tell you that the teacher hates their job, but in my case, I know that’s a big fat lie.

My teacher, Mr. Mark. He loves his job, he just hates me.

Mr. Mark was our smartass of a chemistry teacher. He was young, sarcastic and prideful. Because of that, he was able to gain the students’ respect without a lashing out from "Scared Beyond Straight". The few kids that didn’t like him never even acted out in his class. So his class was a pretty calm and studious atmosphere, something I could appreciate. However, his smartass attitude would put me on edge occasionally. Sometimes his jokes were a little too harsh, if not flat-out offensive. It wasn’t too easy for me to take these jokes with a grain of salt.

One day in class, I found a folded piece of paper on my desk. I assumed that in my haste to get my homework from my folder, a paper must have fallen out. So without any hesitation, I reached out and opened it.

My cheeks immediately heated when I read what it said: " _Do you like me? _Yes _No_ "

I couldn’t look up. I didn’t want to meet eyes with the person who expected me to answer this. However, I knew that person had probably already seen me read the note and was waiting for me to answer it.

"Passing notes, eh?"

The slip of paper was immediately snatched from my fingers as Mr. Mark walked down the aisle. My classmates watched him in awe, then looked at me in suspicion. I was always the good kid, everyone knew that. So the shock in their eyes was to be expected.

Rip. "See me after school." Rip. Rip.

Mr. Mark had sighed the statement and torn the paper with such nonchalant ease that it deepened the burn of guilt in my gut. I watched as shreds of the paper fell from his hand and into the recycling bin like snow in disbelief.

My throat tightened and dried as I tried to salvage any courage I had left in me and defend myself "I-I-I didn’t, I mean, it wasn’t mine--"

"Moving on," announced Mr. Mark as he smoothly moved back to the smart board where he continued to draw his diagram. That was all it took for me to shut my mouth.

* * *

 

"You’ve been a very disobedient boy, Michael."

Mr. Mark stood in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest and a flat expression on his face. We were in the back lab where all the science teachers keep all of their supplies, not leaving much room between he and I. The doors that lead to the other teachers’ classrooms were locked and closed, the darkness of their unoccupied spaces spilling into the awkwardly tight space.

When I first came into the classroom, I called out to Mr. Mark. I saw his hand from the back lab beckon me in with a brisk "Back here." After that, the door was shut behind me and I was stuck in here with his unpredictable presence surrounding me.

"Mr. Mark," I began, unable to look at his face "I wasn’t passing notes. Someone just put it on my desk," I swallowed, trying to rack my brain for the billions of excuses and ways to apologize that I had come up with earlier that day. Unfortunately, I was unable to catch one.

"You should look an adult in the eye when you speak to them," bluntly stated Mr. Mark.

Begrudgingly, I forced my stare onto Mr. Mark’s. His eyes were a dark, unfavorable earth brown. They stared into me with an intensity that sent a chill down my spine. The worst part was, he didn’t even look like he was making an actual effort to intimidate me.

"I’m sorry," I said, resisting the urge to bow my head "The note, I don’t even know where it came from. It probably wasn’t even for me."

"Oh, it was for you," the teacher assured.

The confidence in his tone befuddled me "But...but there wasn’t a name or anything. How could I have known?"

"Michael, you never did answer the question," Mr. Mark rested his hand on the counter behind me, drawing his body closer to me. I instinctively backed away "Do you like me?" he pushed himself even closer "Yes or no?"

My mouth hung open as I realized what he had meant. The expression in my eyes must have been amusing, because Mr. Mark chuckled to himself. I was paralyzed as he ran his hands up and down my arms and stared longingly at my body.

"I think you and I both know the answer," he hummed into my ear.

I shivered immediately when he began tracing kisses down my neck. I shied away and did the best I could to get away from him, but that just ended in me clumsily bumping my head against the cabinet above.

Again, Mr. Mark laughed and soothed the back of my head with his lithe fingers "It’s amazing that you made it into an AP class with your sense of logic, Michael," he said in an agonizingly patronizing voice "To actually trust me a second time doesn’t seem like the smartest thing to do."

I growled in anger. Unfortunately, he was right. This was not the first time this had happened to me.

Three months ago, I was sent to the nurse’s office after spraining my ankle in gym class. Mr. Mark had seen me when I had the accident and escorted me to the nurse’s office. After calling my parents and getting sent to voicemail, the nurse left to take care of some other business, trusting Mr. Mark to watch over me, making her the second person to stupidly trust this man.

* * *

 

Michael whined as he bucked his hips upwards, making the bed beneath him groan in resistance. He ghosted the back of his hand over his lips to keep the lewd sounds from leaking out, but occasionally, it would all be too much and he would catch a glimpse of the sight before him. Mr. Mark hovered over the lower half of Michael’s body, the student’s cock easily fitting into the teacher’s mouth. The man’s eyes were closed in ecstasy as he slowly bobbed his head on the member. Pre-cum spilled from the corners of his mouth and dribbled onto the grey boxers wrapped around Michael’s thighs.

* * *

 

I knew I had to tell someone, but I couldn’t. Mr. Mark threatened to corrupt my college transcripts if I were to tell. Even if he didn’t threaten me, my pride had gotten the better of me and telling anyone what had happened scared me worse than the possibility of becoming this man’s prey again.

Also, part of me didn’t want to tell on Mr. Mark because, as ashamed as I am to admit it, I actually liked what he had done. It was the first time I had ever orgasmed. Yes, I had been intimate with other people, both male and female, but I was never able to actually cum. They were inexperienced teenagers just like me, but Mr. Mark was a grown man who clearly knew what he was doing. I know it’s wrong and statitual rape because I am a minor, but I can’t say I didn’t enjoy the experience then and I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it now.

Even as I look down at Mr. Mark, I can’t help but beg for more. He was kneeling before me with one hand cupping my balls while his mouth worked on my cock. Shivers of pleasure coursed through my body as his black stubble grazed against my sensitive skin. Everything from my hips down had turned to jelly. My legs threatened to give out on me, forcing me to hold myself up on the counter behind me for dear life.

"Sir, please…" I panted, my voice cracking "Don’t...don’t do this...l-let me go...go home…"

Despite my pleads, an involuntary line of saliva slid down my chin as my desperation became more and more evident. I was thankful that with my cock in Mr. Mark’s mouth, he was unable to make a smart alec remark like he often did.

Suddenly, he began to hum around my length, nearly making me cry out in overstimulation. I bucked my hips pitifully, my pleads turning into wordless whines and moans. It was probably for the best that I couldn’t form words. Otherwise, I would risk spitting out lustful commands like " _Please let me cum_!" or " _Please fuck me_!" With the little amount of pride I had left, I wasn’t about to let that happen.

This only being my second orgasm, I still wasn't prepared for it. Mr. Mark was much more aggressive than the last time, making the explosion of pleasure all the more shocking. The edges of my vision blurred as I came. For a moment, all I could hear was white noise. It was as if a gun had been fired right next to my ear.

When I finally came off of my delirious high, my body swayed and threatened to plummet to the linoleum floor. However, Mr. Mark caught me by the arms again. I lifted my head to look up at him and that’s when he planted his lips on mine. Immediately, I was struck with the saltiness of my own seed. It hit me like a shot of whisky and brought me to attention. Mr. Mark’s tongue explored my mouth, spreading the whiteness over every crevice and permanently tattooing the taste onto my tongue. The abundance of moisture was so surreal and made my head swim.

All the while, the teacher grinded his hard-on against my limp cock, nettling the sensitivity into pain and distracting me from the intoxicating oral sensation.

"St-stop…" I tried to stutter between breaths "It...it hurts…"

However, he ignored me and continued to grind. The pain increased and I could do nothing but just whimper into his mouth and take it.

Finally, Mr. Mark separated the kiss, a thread of cum and saliva connecting us. I could feel my moistened lips pulsating in abuse and instantly knew that they were bright red. At this moment, I thought that Mr. Mark would do what he did the last time and leave, pretending as though nothing had happened.

But then, I heard the sound of a zipper.

I fixed my gaze back on him and saw the hardened length of my teacher.

"I think it’s only fair that you return the favor."

* * *

 

That’s why I hate him. I hate the fact that he makes me like being used. I hate that he makes me enjoy being dirtied. He made me like something that was morally wrong in all directions and that’s why I can never forgive him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I do not condone the acts depicted in this work. This smut is only a scenario for those who have a rape fantasy/rapeplay kink. If you're not into that, this is really not something you should read. So be careful, make sure your parents aren’t in the room, and protect the kids.


End file.
